Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Work Work, artist - clipping.. Date of issue: 09.06.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Work Work |
| Holler out your city if you ride for it |
| Let em know why you die for it |
| Same reason all these riders get high so it’s |
| All medicinal now what you wanna buy, homie? |
| Bye bitch |
| Mob shit |
| Boss talk |
| Game rich |
| Name game |
| Gang signs |
| Work on the phone call it bass line |
| (Yup) |
| Line dance like a ho down |
| Pimps up daytime |
| Whole block a ghost town |
| Ghost ride |
| Ghost face |
| G’s get ghost in a moment |
| Pour a little for the ghosts of the dead homies |
| Deadpan voice singing tin pan alley songs |
| Panhandling in front of tourists with the camera phones |
| Get it how you live |
| Or live till you get it |
| Get it in |
| When the stash low and it’s no cash |
| Get it in |
| And you ridin' no L’s no tags |
| Get it in |
| And she lookin' like you ain’t gon' smash |
| Get it in |
| But she got her legs up on the dash |
| Show these haters how to go |
| Get that work |
| Make that work work |
| Get that work |
| Make that work work |
| Get that work |
| Make that work work |
| Get that work |
| Make that work work |
| Cocc Pistol |
| I get it |
| I whip it |
| I flip it |
| I pocket the profit |
| Don’t know when to stop it |
| They callin' me Griselda the harlot |
| My erotic |
| Can’t walk the hill is enormous |
| The arm in the armrest |
| (Click clack) |
| These dames is dormant |
| I came up from boosting my garments |
| Switching my handbags |
| How I switching my polish |
| Never catch me in the same blouse |
| Unless I’m running to Target |
| Never catch me in a large crowd |
| Unless I’m the life of the party |
| I been hitting from September to August |
| Ahead of my time like lil' old ladies and bonnets |
| All I need is a sickle imma reap me a harvest |
| The hardest thing I had to do was to make a real promise |
| I been countin' money since elementary |
| That’s why these broke boys ain’t gettin' into me |
| And when the stash low |
| And it ain’t no cash flow |
| Shit I go to work |
| Move it by the boat load |
| When the stash low and it’s no cash |
| Get it in |
| And you ridin' no L’s no tags |
| Get it in |
| And she lookin' like you ain’t gon' smash |
| Get it in |
| But she got her legs up on the dash |
| Show these haters how to go |
| Stop |
| Red lights in the distance |
| You never been to that district they reference |
| Drunk full of hashish and mescaline |
| Your mind is a mess and this bitch is undressin' |
| Mash on the throttle like a G |
| Put a bottle to your teeth |
| Say fuck it, you’re a free man |
| Pull over to the side of the street |
| Keep your hand on the shotty sitting up under the seat or |
| Let the cop pull you over say something slick |
| On some Jay-Z 99 Problems type shit |
| All of the above in your head but |
| It really doesn’t matter cause you already dead |
| No obituaries for the most part |
| Nobody cares you’re not even a co-star |
| Just an extra |
| They read about it as a number |
| Names got money in their wallet |